I Just Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore
by mininity
Summary: Alfred asks Arthur to prom in a creative way. AU, USUK.


_Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, all rights belong to Hidekazu Himaruya ._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

><p><strong>I Just Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore<strong>

The blossoming peach tree symbolised loneliness to Arthur; it stood alone and was only accompanied by its own nurtured flowers. Arthur felt his heart sink as he realised that he, too, was alone. Everyone around him was huddled together in pairs, giggling and conversing about their upcoming prom. Arthur had to go because he was Head Boy and in charge of the prom faculty. However, he knew he'd be going alone.

_His friend Elizabeta had suggested that they go with Roderich, Elise and Basch (If Roderich and Basch would leave each other alone for more than half an hour) as a group. Arthur had politely declined. Five was a big number and when the time for paired dancing came, he'd be alone._

He had buried his nose and mind into a novel he'd brought with him that week. He wasn't all that much into American literature, but _Of Mice and Men_ was truly one of his favourites.

He pictured the characters in his head as they interacted in their dynamic ways –George being brash but kind hearted to Lennie, Curley's wife being a complete flirt but lonely deep down inside… Arthur sighed abruptly. He knew that feeling.

A white ball whizzed past the Brit's hair and knocked the precious book out of his hand, causing it to fly straight into a puddle which had not yet evaporated from the previous week's rain. _Where had the ball come from? And who the hell aimed it near me!_

Several shouts echoed the school yard, one of which was very familiar. Alfred F. Jones, year 10 and a real pain in Arthur's backside.

"Yo! Artie! You okay?" He yelled across from the tennis courts, which were a few steps behind the peach tree.

Alfred Jones. That name boiled Arthur's blood and the Head Boy stood up smoothly, grabbed his ruined book and headed straight towards the grinning, popular American.

"Look at what you did, you buffoon!" Arthur accused, handing the sopping wet book towards Alfred. The honey blonde blinked innocently as an apologetic smile formed on his tanned face.

"Whoops. Sorry, Artie. Accidents happen, ya know."

Accident or not, there was about to be a deliberate accident all over Alfred's face if Arthur didn't calm himself down. "Of course they do. I have half a mind to make you buy me a new one."

"Of course, Artie, dude. Whatever makes you feel better," Alfred smiled. "But I suppose now would be a bad time to ask you to prom?"

"UGH!" Arthur groaned, thrusting the destroyed novel into the American's large hands. He walked away, stomping his feet every few steps in annoyance before turning back. "Call me Arthur, you ignorant lug."

And thus, the Head Boy had left Alfred's presence.

* * *

><p>Arthur had expected that the new replacement of his novel in his locker the next morning, for he knew Alfred was efficient when it came to a challenge. He hadn't expected the note inside however.<p>

"_Now will you go to prom with me_?"

He just wouldn't give up. And why the bloody hell did star athlete Alfred Jones want to go to prom with Arthur stick-up-his-arse Kirkland? A pang of hurt stung his chest in realisation; it was probably just a hoax. A trick. Something to make Arthur look like a fool. Another way to humiliate the Head Boy.

Like Alfred had done it enough times since he joined the school. Every year, on April Fool's Alfred would play a nasty trick on Arthur in hopes of getting a reaction. The level of nastiness seemed to die down when Arthur didn't really care for the said tricks. Arthur remembered that Alfred hadn't exactly performed a trick on him this year, and seeing as how Arthur was year 11 and this was his last chance to go to a school dance (he had declined the previous year, due to a viral infection), it was the only way that made sense. Alfred was trying to make Arthur look like a fool.

"That… wanker," Arthur growled darkly, scrunching the note in his hand. He slammed his locker shut and stormed off to class, pushing himself though waves of students as he walked through the crowded corridors.

Alfred sighed as he slumped down wall of the locker he was hiding behind. Why was this failing? All he has doing was asking the guy he liked to prom. Alfred stood up, swaying slightly as he tried to walk straight. His mind was set in a realm of fantasy as his body moved to its own accord. Somehow he had ended up near the announcement room.

"Perfect," Alfred grinned as he knocked on the door. Elizabeta Hedervary was the school's morning and afternoon announcer. She would take ten minutes of the first period to announce any news and events that were coming up and then during fourth she would take five minutes of their time to play England's National Anthem as every student (who came from across the globe to attend) stood to sing along.

"What do you want, Jones?" Elizabeta asked, not turning around as she fiddled with several controls before her.

"How'd you know it was me?" Alfred asked, leaning against the doorway.

"I could smell the hamburgers, egotism and sweat from over here. Just got back from football practise, I see."

"Charming, as always," Alfred mused, forcing a wavering smile towards the Hungarian. She returned the false smile with grace.

"I don't know what you're planning, Jones, but leave Arthur alone."

"How can I leave him alone when he won't accept my prom proposal?"

"He… wha?" Elizabeta stopped touching controls and actually face the American with her whole body. "You're kidding, right?"

"No… now if you don't mind, I'm going to do today's morning announcements," Alfred said, moving into the room and closing the door. Elizabeta moved towards the microphone in haste.

"Like hell you are. I'll kick your ass, man. I've done it that albino German and I'll do it to you!"

"_You're_ the one who beat Gilbert up!"

"And? What of it?"

"He was telling everyone is was that Russian kid in year 11!"

"Ivan? Seems plausible. But no, it wasn't him. I did it, and I'll do the same to you, American oaf!"

"Listen!" Alfred grabbed Elizabeta by her arms, holding her in front of him. "I really, really, _really_ like Arthur. Can you _please_ just help me out this one time?"

Elizabeta pondered the thought for a moment before stepping back from the chair. "Whatever. Just don't take more than ten minutes or I really will kick your behind to Mars."

Alfred saluted the brunette as she left the room, probably heading towards the music room where Roderich would be doing his morning piano practise. He pressed several buttons and the casual tune to signal the announcement rang through the school. He pressed another button and suddenly, he was live.

"Good morning students," Alfred began almost imagining the look of confusion on everyone's faces from the change of pitch and tone.

Arthur was sat casually in English Literature, reading a book on Shakespeare's sonnets when the American's voice deadpanned throughout the room. He dropped the book. "Oh good lord, please no."

"As you may have guessed, this is not Elizabeta. I'm Alfred F. Jones, captain of the football team… Ladies, please contain yourselves."

Several girls who were giggling at the back of Arthur's classroom stopped for a moment before swooning at being addressed by Alfred. The Brit shook his head in annoyance. "Bloody hell."

"I don't know what the announcements are today, but I have one myself. This is for Arthur Kirkland, year 11 and Head Boy."

Oh bollocks, everyone was turning to face Arthur as he sunk lower in his seat, his face imitating the colour of beetroot.

"Arthur. As you know you'll be leaving in a few weeks. And as you also know the prom is happening a week after you leave. This is why I've asked your friend, Elizabeta if I could announce this. Arthur, will you go to prom with me?"

Several people awed and many laughed. Girls were glaring at Arthur as the blonde haired boy struggled to maintain his frustration but strangely… he also had to smother the pleasure at being asked in front of the entire school. Alfred had balls, Arthur had to admit, but there was still that niggling feeling that this was just a hoax. Grabbing his book, he excused himself from the class as he grabbed his phone, his fingers numbly pressing keys as he sent a quick text message to Elizabeta before heading off into the men's bathroom to hide.

Elizabeta burst into the room, face red with anger. "I told you! It wouldn't work! Look!" Elizabeta thrust her small phone towards Alfred's face. The American took a few minutes to read the message before dropping his shoulders slightly.

"Oh."

"He's said no at least twice now. Just give it up, Alfred," Elizabeta suggested, her tone softening slightly, sympathising for the boy. Alfred shook his head.

"I won't give up. Arthur will say yes. I can guarantee that!"

Elizabeta dropped her arm. "Wha?"

Alfred was storming his way out in excitement. "I'll just do something _bigger_! Something _better_!" He muttered loudly walking down the corridor towards the gym. Elizabeta stood still in a frozen position of shock before shaking her head and snapping her out of the trance that Alfred' stupidity had caused.

"Wait-!"

"Leave it," a voice behind her said. Elizabeta whirled round and blushed at Roderich, who was looking solemn behind her. He pushed his glasses up his nose. "He's not going to stop until Arthur says yes."

Elizabeta leant against the wall near the door of the announcement room. "I just don't want anyone to get hurt," she admitted. The two watched as Alfred continued his walk towards the gym, hoping that his next plan would work.

* * *

><p>Alfred knew Arthur. He knew his behaviour and his patterns. Everyday after the bell rang to signal the end of school, Arthur would go to the Student Council room and talk to his Deputy Head Boy –Francis Bonnefoy –and the leader of the student council, who happened to be Alfred's best friend Kiku Honda.<p>

However, if Arthur couldn't find Kiku, or if Francis was around, alone, Arthur would head towards the astro turf**,** where the football team would be playing. Alfred had caught the Brit smiling as he watched the black and white ball rolling around the faux grass. Alfred wondered if he ever had a dream to play football himself.

So, today happened to be Alfred's lucky day because, as the star was hurtling forward, the ball between his feet rolling incredibly fast, Arthur turned up and sat in his normal place – third seat, second row. Alfred's concentration broke as he whizzed past the older boy, and he tripped up over the ball and landed head first onto the grass. The coach blew his whistle as teammates ran over to the American to check for damage. Arthur raised a hand to his mouth in surprise and shock… had he done that?

Alfred stood up, shaking his friends' concerned remarks off. "I'm fine! Fine! Look, no scratches, bruises or broken limbs. I'm a-okay!"

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief as he grabbed the novel that Alfred had bought him. He turned to the page he remembered reading, which was the page where the lovable oaf, Lennie, met the stable hand, Crooks. His eyes skimmed the page till he found the line he was on and continued his reading. Alfred looked up from his stance and saw that Arthur was reading… and he was reading the book he had bought. Maybe he was finally in!

A plan sparked in his mind as he ran towards the coach, feigning an ankle injury. "Yo! Coach! I need to talk to you and ask you a biiiiig favour!"

The coach sighed and folded his arms. "This better be good, Jones," he muttered.

"Oh, it _is_!"

* * *

><p>The next day, Arthur grew suspicious. He hadn't seen Alfred all day and it was already fifth period and they were an hour away from going home. He was relieved at the lack of attention from the younger American, but also somewhat disappointed that maybe, just maybe, Alfred <em>had<em> given up – and Arthur wasn't sure if he liked that idea.

The remaining hour whizzed by on the clock, the ticking until the final bell was driving Arthur insane. _Come on, come on_, he urged the clock to tick faster.

_Riiiing_.

And there it was. Relief. Arthur sighed as he stretched his arms above his hand, walking towards the music room/council room. He reached for the handle and pushed down. Locked. _Fuck_.

He roamed the halls as he waited for Kiku or even that bloody frog Francis to turn up. Five minutes went. Then ten. Finally fifteen and Arthur lost hope and gave up on his search. _Where the hell were they?_

* * *

><p>"Alfred-san, are you sure I'm supposed to be here?" Kiku asked, uncertain, he was stood in a room which was flourished with tricoloured flags, pictures of croissants and the Eiffel Tower.<p>

"Yeah, yeah. Don't leave this room until I say so, okay?" Alfred commanded.

"But, _mon cher_, why am I here?" Francis asked, his head peeking from the computer, headphones snuggled to his neck.

"To… er… er… tutor Kiku! His French grades are dropping!"

"Alfred-san, I don't even take French…"

"Well, with those scores, you _would_ want people to think that, huh?"

Kiku and Francis exchanged confused glances before folding their arms. "Alfred, either you tell us what's going on or I'm going to call Arthur," Francis threatened, backing himself up by grabbing his phone and holding it up.

"All right, all right," Alfred back down, holding his hands up in defeat. "I want to surprise Artie."

"What for?" Francis pried.

"I'm not telling you that part. I'm just telling you I want to surprise him," Alfred shot back.

"Fine…" Francis sighed, pushing his headphones back on and turning to his computer. Kiku raised an eyebrow in annoyance but sat down next to the Frenchman.

"Thanks you two! I appreciate it!" Alfred exclaimed with gratitude, his reply was the two waving having hands shooing him out the door. Alfred took the sign and left, silently cheering as he walked down the abandoned corridor.

* * *

><p>Alfred ran to practise where his teammates were waiting in confusion. Their coach had not informed them of why they were there and why Alfred wasn't in his kit.<p>

"Sup guys!" Alfred greeted as he arrived to the small crowd.

"What the fuck is goin' on, Jones?" Gilbert Beilschmidt growled, his gloved hands were formed into fists.

"Is the orchestra on the astro yet?" Alfred asked, ignoring his goalkeeper.

"Yeah, but what is going on, _mi amigo_?" Antonio Carriedo asked. He thumbed in the direction of the turf. "We can't practise with those geeks on there."

"They aren't geeks, Toni. My brother plays the violin for them!" Alfred retorted. He was incredibly protective of his brother. "Anyway, I need you guys to hold these," he said, handing a placard to each of his team mates, "when I give the signal, kay? Kay!" And with that, he was off.

"What the…?" Gilbert wondered as he watched the player leave.

* * *

><p>Arthur didn't quite understand why he felt compelled to sit in this spot for the second day in a row. It wasn't because he wanted to see Alfred or anything. The thing was, the football team wasn't on the field – the orchestra was. He recognised Roderich on keyboard and Elizabeta on the flute. His hands itched to play his guitar again, but he gave that up a long time ago… way before he came to this school.<p>

The speakers, which blared out the norm of the nearest radio station, screeched and then suddenly a familiar voice thundered across the area.

"Team, assemble."

To Arthur's surprise, the football team appeared onto theastro, each holding a placard; they stood in a sequence and held the placards so that a plain white side was facing him. _Now what_?

The orchestra picked up their instruments as Arthur saw Roderich mouth, "One. Two. Three. Four."

A sweet melody flew from the small pit of instruments to Arthur's ears. He knew this song.

"_I can't fight this feeling any longer.__  
><em>_And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow.__  
><em>_What started out as friendship,__  
><em>_Has grown stronger.__  
><em>_I only wish I had the strength to let it show_."

The voice which called the team out began to sing. Arthur craned his neck to catch a look at the singer, already knowing who it was, but to his disappointment, he was still just a voice.

_"I tell myself that I can't hold out forever.__  
><em>_I said there is no reason for my fear.__  
><em>_Cause I feel so secure when we're together.__  
><em>_You give my life direction,__  
><em>_You make everything so clear_."

Arthur turned his direction to the pitch… maybe he would walk out on there and sing. He looked from each side of the gated field, no such luck. He was no where to be seen.

"_And even as I wander,__  
><em>_I'm keeping you in sight.__  
><em>_You're a candle in the window,__  
><em>_On a cold, dark winter's night.__  
><em>_And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might."_

_What the hell's going on? Where is he?_

"_And I can't fight this feeling anymore.__  
><em>_I've forgotten what I started fighting for.__  
><em>_It's time to bring this ship into the shore,__  
><em>_And throw away the oars, forever."_

Alfred stood in the announcement room attached to the gym. It was used during the summer sports day to call different competitors to the grounds. But thankfully Alfred had sweet-talked the cute Belgian who used the room often to commentate on home played games into letting him use it for his own personal gain.

"_Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore.__  
><em>_I've forgotten what I started fighting for.__  
><em>_And if I have to crawl upon the floor,__  
><em>_Come crushing through your door,__  
><em>_Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore."_

Maybe it was time for him to leave the room and start making his way to the bleachers to surprise Arthur from behind. He knew Arthur liked this song; he had asked Elizabeta which song would be best to play to serenade her best friend with. He had suggested something from a band he liked but she had wrinkled her nose and was adamant that Arthur _loved_ this song.

"_My life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you.__  
><em>_I've been running round in circles in my mind.__  
><em>_And it always seems that I'm following you, girl,__  
><em>_Cause you take me to the places,__  
><em>_That alone I'd never find."_

His footsteps were almost thundering against the pavement of the walkway to the bleachers near the astro turf. He climbed the stairs behind the seating.

"_And even as I wander,__  
><em>_I'm keeping you in sight.__  
><em>_You're a candle in the wind,__  
><em>_On a cold, dark winter's night.__  
><em>_And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might.__"_

Alfred poked his head around and saw the blonde mess of hair that belonged to the person of his interest. He was so close; there was no way in hell Arthur would say no to this.

"_And I can't fight this feeling anymore.__  
><em>_I've forgotten what I started fighting for.__  
><em>_It's time to bring this ship into the shore,__  
><em>_And throw away the oars, forever."_

Alfred finger-gunned the team.

"Alright guys, time to unveil the placards," Gilbert said, turning his over to reveal the word "_Arthur_."

One by one they each revealed their placards.

_Arthur. Will. You. Go. To. Prom. With. Me?_

A hand flew to Arthur's mouth; maybe Alfred _was_ serious about this after all. As Alfred stepped down the bleachers and towards Arthur's seat the boy turned around and locked eyes with the hopeful American.

He grinned and shot a wink at the blushing Arthur before finishing the song.

"_Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore.__  
><em>_I've forgotten what I started fighting for.__  
><em>_And if I have to crawl upon the floor,__  
><em>_Come crushing through your door,__  
><em>_Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore_."

Alfred dropped the microphone. "So, whaddaya say?"

"I say," Arthur paused in thought. "Yes. I will."

Alfred fist pumped the air before he brought the Head boy in for a bone crushing hug.

The team took this as a good sign and cheered loudly, throwing the placards in the air in celebration.

"You know, I'd kiss you right now," Alfred pondered.

"And? What's stopping you?"

"Well…" Alfred bit his lip in hesitation. Arthur's lips sure looked inviting. He shook his head to rid the thought. "I wanna wait till prom night."

Arthur pouted slightly before a devilish grin worked his way onto his face. "Well, unfortunately for you… _I_ can't wait three weeks."

With that Arthur leapt up to the America, arms encircling his neck before sliding his lips onto Alfred's. The kiss was quick and chaste but still took Alfred's breath away.

* * *

><p>The sun was setting as Alfred and Arthur left the grassed area, hands entwined.<p>

"For a minute there, I thought you had given up on me," Arthur admitted.

"Nah… I always save the best till last. Y'see, I knew you'd say no to the question when it was proposed at the wrong time, or asked informally or when you had been put on the spot. I just had to romance you."

"You think you know me that well, huh?" Arthur challenged, an eyebrow raised.

"No… yes. Maybe. I did my research. I've liked you for a really long time, Arthur," Alfred admitted, blushing slightly.

Arthur was surprised and delighted. "Fool, I've liked you for a long time too."

"You have a funny way of showin' it," Alfred protested.

"As do you!"

"I sang to you in front of my own team and the orchestra club!"

"I was kidding," Arthur deadpanned. Alfred blinked slightly, not used to the tone in Arthur's voice.

"Oh…"

The two walked in sync, heading towards the main school building and out the front entrance before Alfred stopped in panic.

"What is it?" Arthur asked.

"I forgot to tell Francis and Kiku that they could go home!" Alfred yelped racing back into the school building, leaving Arthur to watch after him in confusion and a little amusement.

* * *

><p><em>Note: Hey guys! Just a little note to say that this was a writing exchange between IggyCat and I!<em>

_Thanks to Trumpet Geek for betaing, you star!_

_Thanks for reading!_

_The song used is I Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore by Reo Speedwagon!_


End file.
